


in the jungle I run tonight

by infiniteviking



Category: Tron (1982), Tron (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteviking/pseuds/infiniteviking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days later, Dillinger sneaks back into ENCOM, hoping to find the system unprotected. It isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the jungle I run tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for precira, who wanted Dillinger to meet Tron at ENCOM.

It wasn’t hard to bypass security — Flynn wasn’t the only one who could hack a keypad. Dillinger waited until the usurper and Bradley headed for the elevator, their raucous banter setting his teeth on edge, and then let the rest of the building clear out before heading for Bradley’s cubicle.

He expected to find it deserted. Hoped the computer had been left idle, or better yet, with a process to interrupt. Two could play at this proof-of-conspiracy game. Though a record of what had happened in the system last night wouldn’t get him his company back, it might bring Flynn and his colleagues down with him.

But the cubicle wasn’t empty.

Bradley was sitting there before the powered-down computer, his glasses off, eyes burning in the half-dark, fixing on the intruder rounding the partition. As if he’d been _waiting_.

Dillinger’s heart stuttered. Bradley rose, his expression, always easy to read, caught between indefinable fascination and a flat, uncompromising hatred that lent an alien cast to his face. Yesterday, he’d been flustered and easy to balk, seething with frustrations he hadn’t had the imagination to direct. Today he was a whip, a blade, stalking fluidly forward with a predatory gait that had Dillinger’s back against the opposite cubicle wall before he realized he’d moved.

“You—” Dillinger stammered, consternation freezing his mind at the obvious contradiction. “You left. I saw you.”

“So should you,” said Bradley, with a small, deadly smile. “This system is protected. But first, I have a message for you — from a very old friend.”

…

“Aww, what happened?” crooned Flynn at the hearing the next morning. “Run into a really big door?”

Dillinger glared at him and then turned away, wincing as muscles twinged at the decidedly rascally bruise blossoming around his swollen eye. Witnesses had been celebrating with Flynn and Bradley halfway across the city for most of last night, but they had to be lying.

All 648 of them.  
___


End file.
